Training Archers
by Grey Blade
Summary: In the heat of the afternoon, an innocent attempt at help turns into a chance to show off. And learn.


The unmistakable whiz of arrows occupied the open air as the archers let fly their aim. The wooden shafts flew widely. One had gotten close, so close; the owner of the arrow felt his chest swell, but ultimately

"Nope. Not a scratch." Trufflehunter peeked from behind the comical straw likeness of a Telmarine he was holding up.

Meters away was a line of Narnians, bows in their hands, chests deflating at the badger's remark. Near center of the line, the Gentle Queen suppressed a sigh. Susan was an unusually patient person, but the growing situation – not to mention the tension brought on by said situation – was rendering her hard pressed for time. But she held back her thoughts. These weren't war veterans used to the sting of harsh words. Most were wide-eyed Narnians whose knowledge of things was limited to hiding, not open war. A show of pessimism would do no one good at this hour.

"It's alright," she assured the line of archers-in-training. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

Far to her right, she heard a satyr and a faun – Baurkel and Thalio as she recalled – whispering inquisitively.

"How long did it take?"

"What's Rome?"

She shook her head, "It's just a phrase-"

Words were barely out of her mouth before a sharp flow of air flew past, singing in her ear. And then the sound of a steel-tipped arrow finding its mark, and a startled Trufflehunter exclaiming. "Hey!"

One of their stock arrows was embedded in the target's chest area. Susan was astonished.

"Nice shot," she remarked. "Which one of you-"

"Good afternoon, your Majesty."

The line of archers turned to see Prince Caspian , a crossbow held loosely in his hands.

"I thought you could use some help," he addressed Susan as he took position beside her.

"Things are well in hand, thank you," she said politely enough. The Gentle Queen was also an unusually proud person.

"I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

The humble tone he took on brought her off guard. Susan was accustomed to men – Narnian, Calormen, Archenlander, Telmarine, and English– who sought her attention with bravado. Anyone else may have responded the same words but would have put on airs to show that they didn't really mean it. She was a woman after all. Why would they? She instantly felt silly for immediately assuming that the Prince was no different.

"I suppose you could do better?"

He grinned at her and reached for an arrow from the quiver strapped to his hip. "Pick a target."

Susan smiled inwardly. He may have been different from the line of admirers she was used to, but he still certainly wouldn't pass the chance to show off. That was easily remedied.

"See that pinecone?" She nodded to one of the tall trees a little ways off from where Trufflehunter was sitting.

Caspian eagerly took aim. "No problem."

"Uhm." She took hold of the bottom of the bow and gently raised it. His eyes were on her as she moved beside him. Suddenly she was aware of the proximity she'd made. She didn't even have the chance to think of what she was doing. They were so close she could see afternoon sunlight rest on his lashes. She tore her eyes away from him and stared steadfastly at the target. "That one."

Caspian still felt the lingering presence of her closeness breath on the skin beneath his clothes, even as she pulled away. He reminded himself look back to the trees.

One look at the new mark and the crossbow in his hands lowered. It was the same tree the pinecone he thought she was referring to was in, but the one she actually meant was higher, more hidden among the leaves. Suddenly, he didn't look so confident. "Are you sure that's not an acorn?" The queen surely must have been joking.

"Too far for you?"

Her tone sounded sincere, but the challenge in it was not lost on him. He gave her a look and spotted the mischievous spark in her eyes. Something which he wouldn't have associated with her before. He was learning more about the queen's nature each day. He'd show her that he wouldn't be the only one who would learn.

The crossbow was raised again. He eyed across the shaft.

The Narnians were enjoying the spectacle, collectively wondering if the prince could bite harder than the volume of his bark, or if he really just showing off to the queen. His infatuation hadn't gone unnoticed.

Caspian released the arrow. For a second his breath stayed, but he saw the shot fly past the pinecone. They were too far to see just how close it was, but he was willing to bet his arrow didn't miss by more than an inch. It was a good aim.

"Not bad," Susan said. Again, she was astonished. Caspian smiled despite himself.

"Well, I was trained by the finest in the Telmarine army."

The mischievous glint he had spotted earlier suddenly found its way back to Susan's eyes. She looked at him then, and now she was the one grinning. "Well. If that's the best they've got…" She put her bow to the ready, an arrow already strung. "We might stand a chance after all."

A regular bow entailed more skill than the crossbow, yet it took her a shorter amount of time than he to take aim and release. Caspian had barely looked up before a speared pinecone fell to the ground.

He clearly still had a lot to learn.

* * *

><p><em>Wow, this is my first fanfiction in months. A year or two even. I'm very rusty. <em>

_If you hadn't already figured out, this is an actual scene. It was deleted from the final cut of the movie but in my mind, it really happened so there. If you'd like to see the actual scene, and don't mind looking at Narnians in blue tights, it's on Youtube._

_I just thought I'd like to introduce this scene by telling it through my own perspective. _

**_The retelling is mine but the story is not._**


End file.
